284 The Sporting Dog 



We had breakfast and the conveyance was 

 brought up, a roomy spring wagon, the body 

 of which, beyond the one front seat, was filled 

 with a big, light crate, capable of holding eight 

 or ten dogs. Two horses, of course. In the 

 territory nobody ever did, as far as known, drive 

 one horse. 



" We will go out about six miles to Duck Creek. 

 I don't like to work dogs where there are fences. 

 You can't follow them so well." 



So we plunged down the steep bank of the little 

 river which ran through the ranch, and scrambled 

 up the opposite steep bank, and struck out. Any- 

 body could see that there would be quail all about, 

 but we were not merely after quail and the wire 

 fences were too many near the small settlement 

 on one side of which was my friend's land. 



When we struck the open country it was a 

 rolling prairie, a draw running through the cen- 

 tre. Two of the dogs were put down, both set- 

 ters, one of which, as the trainer said, did not 

 retrieve at all, and the other a vast deal too much. 

 Both ranged out far and fast, working their way 

 toward the draw. We hurried along after them, 

 bumping over the roadless prairie, w^hich was not 

 as smooth as it seemed. One of the dogs at- 

 tracted my attention by running backward and 

 forward in long casts over the same ground. I 

 asked what he was about. 



